“What ward is she on?”

Every second word this dumpy woman uttered was foreign to me. And here I’d been worried about entering this healing centre—hospital—because the levels of misery of sick people were usually overwhelming to me.

I hadn’t counted on making myself so bloody miserable instead.

“Uh … cancer. Children’s cancer,” I blathered. “She voluntaries⁠—”

“Volunteers, dear,” the woman corrected gently.

I wondered if I could squeeze the life out of her as well while I was on a roll of fantasising about doing just that to everyone in my vicinity.

“Volunteers … doing art with some girls there,” I finished, wishing I could collapse into a chair in relief that I’d managed to get some portion of a sentence out that made me appear to be an only somewhat-incompetent human.

The woman’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded, beaming up at me. “Oh, you mean Jemma! She’s a darling. Those girls have had such a rough trot, and she’s like a ray of sunshine in that activity room every Thursday!”

My stomach flipped at the description of Jemma Bliss. While I was pushing down those feelings, the woman turned and started walking straight at the wall of silver doors.

I scowled. What was the point of any of that interaction if I didn’t, at the very least, get directions to where I was headed?

She turned back, eyeing me oddly. “Well, are you coming? I’m on my way up there now—that’s my ward. I’ll take you to Jemma.”

Jaw tight, something inside my chest doing somersaults, I followed her as she pressed a button on the wall, and the doors slid open, revealing a tiny box room.

The woman walked right into the claustrophobic space as if sealing herself into this metal tomb was completely normal.

I froze.

“Is everything alright, dear?” she asked, her tone almost patronising. “We’ve got to head up to level five if you want to see your lady love.”

Two tiny hisses of laughter erupted from under my shirt.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself into the box.

“Jemma never mentioned a boyfriend,” the woman remarked, eyeing me as she pressed a button and the doors slid shut. “Which honestly is a shock because a strapping thing like you? I would’ve thought she’d be screaming about you from the rooftop.”

I swallowed down a bark of laughter, picturing Jemma Bliss on the roof of this place, screeching, “I’m dating Satan! I’m dating Satan!”

“It’s new,” was actually what I grunted out. And I couldn’t say any more because my stomach lurched into my feet as the box jerked upwards. I gripped onto the metal rail behind me with clammy hands.

The woman’s eyes softened. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest, popping in here for a visit. Does she know?”